Promises
by aworldalone
Summary: While the world around her is rebuilding itself, Annie must face her pregnancy and come to terms of the unkept promises Finnick left her. {FinnickxAnnie one-shot.}


**A/N: I'm actually republishing this story- hope y'all enjoy!**

* * *

They never understood.

They kept telling her over and over, repeating the same words in the same tone like clockwork. Always the same pale-faced, white-wearing, District 13 nurses with the same soothing voice.

"No, Annie, Finnick's not coming back." They'd whispered to her. They always said it with a small withering smile and a pat on the back. They said other things too, but she didn't listen much to that. She kept thinking of those words over and over.

_He's not coming back._

They didn't understand- he _promised._ He always keeps his promises. When they sat across from each other in the cramped quarters of the District 4 visiting room he promised he would come home to her. She cried when he said that, because she thought he was lying. When she was reaped, he promised her he would get her back as a victor. She didn't cry that time, though. When Snow threatened to sell her at the auctions like he did to the others, Finnick promised she would never have to go through that. She knew she really did love him when he said that.

Even when they were eight and searching for seashells by sticking their small fingers through the wet sand, he promised her, one of these days, he was going to marry her.

Finnick told her right before he left, gun sling around his shoulder, his hands finding her swollen stomach, that he would always come back to her. Always.

Finally, they gave up on the gentle approach. "Annie, no! Finnick is dead! Don't you understand?" They screamed at her when she explained this. She wanted to laugh. Instead, she smiled and shook her head.

"You'll see," she'd whisper, "You don't know Finnick like _I_ do."

She was back to being known as the crazy girl again. The poor, poor pregnant and widowed mad girl from District 4. She didn't mind, while the world around her was rebuilding itself, picking up pieces of itself and forcing them to fit, she was content. She was carefree and light. She wasn't going to wear the same dead eyes of the other tributes or slump her shoulders and drown herself in alcohol and morphine, which is what everyone else did. Finnick taught before that was not the way to go through life. We can overcome anything, short of death.

At the last trimester of her pregnancy, she began to worry. What if Finnick really wasn't going to come home? She hid in the linen closet darkness just like she did on the victory tour when she got these thoughts. She curled up in a ball, trying to disappear. The only person who knew that this was her hiding place was Finnick. Instead of coaxing her out to face the families of _dead_ children, he would sit beside her and stroke her hair until she calmed down enough to go back out.

It was like everywhere she went, she saw him. In the green painted living room, she saw his eyes. When she smelt salt, she couldn't help but smile. Even when she saw the sun, she thought of him. It was like she could never get away from him. Not that she minded. She loved him, she loved him, she loved him. She never thought she'd ever feel this strong of a feeling before, but she enjoyed it thoroughly. She loved love. She loved devotion. And she loved Finnick.

* * *

She woke up to a beautiful morning, that Sunday, next to Johanna, who often slept over at her house. She was moaning someone's name in her sleep, though Annie stopped trying to decipher the names Johanna screamed during her nightmares long ago. Something felt off this morning, though.

"Jooohanna?" she cooed.

"Yes?" she murmured.

"I feel funny."

At this, Johanna looked at her, and gasped. "Oh my God, Annie, you're.. Oh my God! you're in labor! I'm calling the nurse, just.. just hold on!" She scrambled to her feet, tripping over herself, which made Annie giggle.

* * *

Soon, they handed her a swaddle. She opened the little light blue sheet to peer up at her sons' face. At this, she started smiling so hard she cried.

"Look, look!" she whispered between tears, pointing frantically at the little boys features. His green eyes shined and you could see little bronze hairs growing in wisps on the top of his little head.

"I told you he would come back to me."

That was Finnick for you, he always keeps his promises.


End file.
